Frostian

Thanks to my overzealous notetaking as of late, I've found out that somehow I have inadvertently plagiarised Frost. See, I have had this fragmental verse written, unfinished, tentatively titled Saltsmith (though it really doesn't sit well with me), timestamped on March 15:

You are a salt statue

The undercurrent of the world is constantly eroding you

Step back, step back

Put the sign 'Under Construction'

And regain yourself

The passing sense of familiarity was tugging when I clipped from Robert Frost's Directive on May 7:

And if you’re lost enough to find yourself

By now, pull in your ladder road behind you

And put a sign up CLOSED to all but me.

Then make yourself at home.

Now I would like to think that I have perhaps tapped to that great ocean of Jungian collective knowledge, though I'm sure there are less romantic explanations to it. Lesson #1: Some things are better left romanticised; Lesson #2: I should not leave such crumbs of verses and dilly-dally until they grow stale and nobody wants to eat them anymore.